


Titanium

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Porn, Complete, Drama, Drug Withdrawal, M/M, Past Drug Use, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-20 18:53:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1521800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco works as a doctor in a major hospital. Despite being heavily influenced by religion, he finds himself in love with one of his patients, who happens to be a recovering drug addict.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Raise your voice

**Author's Note:**

> This is a multi-chapter work that I've actually already finished writing. I'll be posting a new chapter every few days or so, just to make sure it's paced out alright. I'm not religious myself so I was pretty lost trying to write the religious part in here. If it offends anyone, I apologize.

"Jean..." The brown haired boy ran his nose along the brunette head underneath him. His breath ran along the boys neck, creating a rather arousing sensation in the brunette heads body.

  
Jean was little less than an average person. He had a harder life than the regular people his age. A life that consisted of drug abuse, violence, and sex along with many other minor things. When he was born, his mother was in a series of depression due to the fact that his father had left her while he was still an infant. His mother never got over the love she felt for the man that abandoned her, leaving a lingering tension in the air as he grew up. She often had random mood swings and could end up resorting to abuse when she couldn't handle things. Jean had learned to deal with it and grew to an understanding when it came to the action of their mother.

Watching his mother struggle throughout his life had left a large impact in the way Jean dealt with himself. Jean had grown up poor and was always unstable when it came to his emotions. He had feel victim to the use of drugs, using things from heroin, to weed, and had even gotten a hold of cocaine. The addiction had nearly taken his life more than once, nearly overdosing . His use of drugs had started around the time he was going through puberty and had been having a difficult time with the kids he grew up with. Depression had overcome him, taking a large part in his drug abuse. The kids he grew up with had always given him a hard time by accusing him of his sexuality most of the time. He had never been sure if he was straight or gay, until the last time he had nearly overdosed, but growing up with no male influence had left him open for the bullying he had endured. Everything fell into place in his mind when he woke up in a hospital bed some months ago. His eyes were met with the glowing shimmer of a light brown. The olive skin had a unique glow to it and was complimented by the short brunette hair and soft freckles that spotted along their nose. Jean was almost sure he had still been high or was going through a side effect of some kind of pill they put him on, but it wasn't. He watched absent minded as the brunette had swiftly and easily restored Jean back to good health.

  
It wasn't until he was fully conscious that he realized that his doctor was his age. Realizing that had made him feel like a fool in comparison. Despite being jealous over his doctor's success, he still found the man to be interesting and extremely gentle. He was always really friendly to Jean, and he always seemed interested in him as a person and not as a patient. Before he knew it, Jean had been trying to keep himself in the hospital longer so he could keep meeting with his life saver. Marco, his doctor hadn't paid much attention to Jean's feelings. In fact Marco didn't care for Jean much at all when he took Jean as a patient. One thing he had always resented were drugs. Saving someone from overdose had always left Marco with a feeling of accomplishment, but when he saw that it was Jean who had been put into his care, he felt nothing but sorrow.

  
"Jean...n-not so rough..." Marco moaned twisting Jean's hair into his fist. Jean kissed all along Marco's neck, pulling down his shirt for more revealed skin, while pulling himself in and out of Marco at a steady pace. Marco concentrated on his breath while his eyes stared upward at the ceiling. He couldn't wrap his head around what was happening and for the most part, he didn't care.

  
He didn't care about the fact that he was going against his religion. He didn't care that he was creating sin or that the person he was making sin with was an addict. All he wanted was the torturous pleasure that was flowing through him currently. He liked the feeling, mainly because it numbed his body with a current of a worry free lifestyle. His mind fought with his body every second of through the endless activity. " _Not so rough_ " He had said. " _Not so rough.._ " Marco rolled his eyes upward. " _Not at all...I shouldn't be doing this at all.._ " His mind told him. But the pleasure didn't cease. With each passing second, it seemed to increase. Maybe not by much, but enough to block out his arguing thoughts, enough to stop his worrying conscious, enough to take him away from reality.

  
He suddenly wondered how it had come to this. How had he lived his life day-in and day-out, never once doing something like this, and then falling on his hands and knees for one person. Marco gripped Jean's hair again, releasing it and then clutching it with the rhythm of pleasure pulsing into his body. "It was for him...I did this for him..." Marco told himself. "It's not wrong if I'm doing it to help someone else release from their sins...No, it can't be wrong." But he knew it was. Conducting sexual activity with a partner of the same sex was way beyond what he had learned, premarital sex in itself was something that could send him to hell.

  
Jean pulled his head away from Marco's chest and stared into his partner's brown eyes. Locking eyes had made the entire experience even more intense then it already was. Marco couldn't stare at his sin any longer and snapped his eyes shut. Jean didn't understand the amount of torment he was putting Marco through by doing this and continued into him.

  
The freckled man turned his head away from Jean, releasing a soft moan. Jean kissed along Marco's neck, running his tongue up towards the tortured boys ear. He nipped his ear lope, his hot breath brushing against Marco's face. Marco dug his nails into Jean's back, pulling his shirt into a ball, trying to contain himself as best as he could. It wouldn't be so bad if Marco didn't enjoy it so much. This was now their seventeenth time in the six months that they've began dating that they had sex in the hospital. That didn't include all the times they had fucked when they were alone.

  
All of the excitement and pleasure finally died, moments later. Jean came inside of Marco, then pulled away from him after catching his breath. Marco slid down the wall of the closet they were in and drew in deep breaths. He watched as Jean fixed his pants, just barely catching a glimpse of the mess he had left on his stomach.

  
Jean drew in one last breath before kneeling down next to Marco. He rubbed the pressure points on his chest, feeling a slight pain come up. After a small moment, the pain subsided. He figured it had to of been because of his loss of breath, or something like that and dismissed it to the back of his head. He turned to his head towards his doctor. Marco had fixed his clothing and immediately had his hands pressed together. Jean watched as his love began reciting some kind of prayer. He glanced over at the closed door, then back to Marco. Jean interrupted Marco's prayer, pressing his lips into Marco's. "Why do you always do that?" Jean asked after pulling away. Marco turned to him, his eyes open in shock.

  
"I...I have to...or the Lord won't-"

  
"Lord won't what? As far as I'm concerned, the Lord won't do shit. Good or bad." Jean stated.

  
"Jean!" Marco exclaimed after hearing the words come out of his mouth. Jean looked at him from the corner of his eye. "God doesn't determine things that our mind tries to categorize, he determines what happens to us after death. He's not supposed to create good or bad, just separate them."

  
"How? By making sure that anybody who dies a virgin that lived under a rock in their parents basement all their life gets to be put in Heaven, and then sending everyone else to hell?" Marco's jaw dropped at the words he was hearing. "Look, I'm not saying that there isn't a God, or afterlife, I just think that the circumstances that society came up with and proclaimed as God's divine judgment is a buncha bullshit."  
"Jean, you don't know that!" Marco jumped.

  
"Yes I do! Just take a good look at the bible! The ten commandments! Can't steal, can't do anything bad against your parents even if they're shitty, can't cheat on someone, oh and don't even think about using God's name in vain. Can't eve fuck someone that isn't of the opposite gender! It's bullshit. You can't have sex, you can't go against chirst, you can't even masturbate for fucks sake! All of that to get to heaven? If we can't do that alive then what the fuck can we do when we get there? If it's anything like this, send me to hell." Jean said with a rising furry.

  
"Don't say that...Jean, that's not true, God's-" Marco was cut off.

  
"Then what about you?" Jean threw at him. " You talk so high about 'God', but you continue to fuck me when you think he's got his head turned. How's that any different from what I'm saying?"

  
Marco was struck by the statement. It sounded so much worse when it was actually said to him then when his conscious brought about the sin he committed. "...I..." Marco didn't know what he was trying to say. Jean had him there. How was preaching about God and then going against all of it any different than being against it in the first place?

  
"See? Even you don't know..." Jean mumbled. Marco swallowed a lump in his throat. He stood up and ran his sweaty palms against his thigh.

  
"We should get going...breaks almost over..." He said unsure of himself.


	2. Shoot me down

"Your bodies just adjusting, there should be a few blood spots every now and then," Marco explained to a panicked woman. She clutched her stomach not seeming to believe him, but remained silent. "You're only seven weeks along but, if you don't feel comfortable, we can do an ultrasound so you can see."

  
The woman nodded. "Yes, please."

Marco smiled at the woman, giving her a feeling of reassurance. He pulled out the equipment and after readying it, placed the tool against the womans stomach, while directing her attention to the screen above the desk. The screen was white, with tones of black fuzz showing a hidden child in the picture. Marco pointed to an area on the screen. "See? The babies coming along fine. There's its body developing..." The woman let out a sigh of relief. Marco continued to point out the developed areas of the child, talking calmly to the woman.

  
"Oh thank God..." She said aloud. Marco fringed at the word. After earlier, he did anything he could to keep him from thinking about the question Jean had planted in his mind. He was quiet for a moment, thinking about it. After the woman turned to him, Marco forced the question to the back of his mind. "I-I didn't know I was pregnant...I would've been more careful, but I didn't know..."

  
Marco gave a small laugh, remembering that just a few months ago, his sister was saying the exact same words. he thought about it a moment and realized that she would be due any day now. "It's alright, just take it easy for a little while. Now you know about the child, so make sure you start eating a better diet too, you don't want an unhealthy baby." Marco advised. The woman nodded and stood up.

  
"Thank you, for seeing me so soon." The woman nodded politely and then left.

  
Marco sighed, staring at the white screen. He stared blankly at it for sometime, trying not to let his mind go back in time. All he wanted to do now, was attend to his last few patients and then go home. Whether or not he'd see Jean again he wasn't sure. 

Marco started thinking about Jean, about the time when the nurses wheeled him into his room. Jean had been in that room more than he should've been. Marco had never had him as a patient, but Jean was talked about by the other doctors that had attended him. They had always talked about how annoying he was, having to save his life all the time for the same stupid reason. "God Damn, the kid obviously doesn't give a shit about his health, why keep rescuing him? His family doesn't seem to give a shit either if they keep letting the kid overdose."

  
"Yeah, I've already had to attend to him three times. It's a miracle his body can even fight back, his immune system is shot for shit, he'll end up dying soon anyways."

  
"I was tempted to not work fast enough when I was treating him, but drug addict or not, he's still a patient, and as much as I hated it, I had to do what I could."

  
Marco had all of those comments flowing through his head as Jean's unconscious body was layed out in front of him. Marco wasn't debating on whether or not to save the kid, he already knew he was going to do whatever he could to save him. What he was worried about,-why all the comments he heard had frightened him- was wondering what if he couldn't save the kid? Over dosing so many times is incredibly dangerous for any persons' body. Even if Marco had extracted all of the drugs from his system, he'd have to worry about other problems, like if his heart failed, or his blood began to clot, or his brain shut down. Marco immediately jumped into action, saving the other worries for when the moment came. Several times Marco had almost lost the kid. It was a miracle that Jean had actually lived through this last overdose. After experiencing what damage the drugs caused, he immediately knew that if Jean took in anymore severe drugs, he was dead. One shot of heroine would kill him the quickest. It'd end up stopping his heart after a period of time, while popping so much as four more 800mg pills would definitely slow down his blood flow and in turn cause heart failure, if he some how survived that, he'd probably end up with a blood clot in the wrong place and end up suffocating his body to death.

  
Whatever it was, Marco couldn't watch it happen, not to one of his patients. Jean was hospitalized for about three weeks after Marco had tended to him. Marco asked that he could be put in charge of watching over him and he slowly tried to get Jean to trust in him. Jean wasn't very talkative after it had all happened either. In fact, most of the time Marco had ended up talking to himself when trying to communicate with the boy. Every now and then Jean would say a small bit, but nothing more than needed. Then there was one day when Jean had asked the questions.

  
Marco had just stopped by to check up on his blood pressure and take a sample of his blood, to make sure Jean hadn't some how snuck in drugs. Jean was staring out the window, at something only he seemed to notice, when he finally spoke without being asked to. "Why haven't you released me yet?" Marco had to think about it to understand what he was talking about.

  
"Why haven't I released you? Because you're an addict." Jean turned away from the window confused. "Letting someone like you out this early would mean that I'd just be seeing you again the next night, wouldn't I?" Jean looked down. Marco smirked. "I don't want to release you yet until you're at a better health level and have a better control for your addiction. You overdose again and you'll finally get your wish fulfilled."  
Jean sighed. "I...I don't want to die...I just..." He turned his attention back out the window. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "Have you ever had the feeling that you're completely alone?" Marco turned away from the paperwork he was filling out. "That everyone around you...isn't really there? Like it's all make-belief?"

  
Marco set down his papers and sighed. "Everybody goes through that feeling Jean, I can understand how you want to get away from it all, but depression isn't an excuse to abuse drugs. Once you get out of that state you'll understand that you really aren't alone."

  
"That's the thing...I haven't felt like that for awhile now... I actually feel like I've got someone behind me to catch me when I start to fall. I don't know where it came from, but, it makes me afraid to leave here." Jean explained.

  
"Well, that's a good thing. Knowing someone's there for you can make anyone feel just a tiny bit better. And you need to stay here for sometime. Maybe we can put you through some therapy to help you with your addiction. If you can stop taking in so many drugs, you may even be able to help restore some of your damaged areas."

  
"Hm." Jean stared down at the bed sheets. "I just like it when we talk..."

  
Marco smiled at the comment, while pulling out a fresh needle and flicking the tip of it. "Yeah, for once I'm not talking to myself... " Marco ran a wet cotton-ball over Jean's shoulder, before penetrating the skin with the needle and drawing his blood. Jean watched as his blood filled the container.

* * *

 

"Fuck, Marco!" Jean rested his head against Marco's shoulder while he dug his nails into Jean's back.

  
"Oh, Jean-Ohhh!" Marco moaned loudly. He threw his head back against the pillow as Jean was once again on top of him and was once again fucking him. He was less than gentle this time around, thrusting himself into Marco as hard as he could. Marco drew in deep breaths, letting them out in moans. Jean grabbed onto his lovers hips and used them to help thrust harder into him, making Marco's nails dig deeper into his back. Marco was once again greeted with the same arousing pleasure that he had regretted so much. His body was filled with such an intoxicating feeling, he wasn't even thinking about his normal ponders during their sexual activity. The only thing he was focused on was the body on top of him.

  
Jean was on the verge of cumming just before he felt the moist spill from Marco. Not even seven hours earlier, they had been at it in the janitor's closet at the hospital and now they had already gotten all over each other. Jean finished not too long after and collapsed on top of the freckled man. His nerves were twitching and his hair standing on end. Marco was breathing heavily against Jean's ears, his legs still spread apart from the rough experience. After a moment he relaxed his legs and closed his eyes. It was around 11:00 p.m. right now, and he was dead tired from all the patients he attended as well as attending to Jean to.

  
A little over an hour ago, Jean had called and told Marco how he had been having cravings again. Marco was just going to have him over to try and help calm his craving, but, like most of the time, they just ended up fucking each other. It was good for Jean, keeping him from doing any drugs, but Marco just secretly wanted it all to go away. Directly after work Marco had gone straight to his church and confessed his sins, only to be told that he was forgiven, like he had been told every time he confessed at the church. Marco was ashamed of himself for being so two-faced on the situation. He was beginning to ask questions about himself. Was he really with Jean to help with his addiction? Or was it now the other way around? Did Marco truly believe his religion? Was there really a God? Or was it just as Jean said? Just a buncha bullshit...?

  
Jean kissed Marco continuously, leaving a trail of hickies along his neck, but careful not to go too high up. Jean's hands were still shaking like they were when he had arrived in his drug craving mind, but for a different reason. No matter how many times him and Marco had sex, Jean couldn't get over the fact that Marco was his. He had never dreamed it possible after learning Marco was a strong Catholic that attended church every Sunday on his own accord, but some how it had come to be. Jean traced his finger along Marco's bare chest, then along his abdomen, and then towards his thighs. Marco pushed Jean's fingers away from him and then turned on his stomach, his head laying away from Jean.

  
Jean decided not to think anything of it and wrapped his arms around Marco. Marco was somehow annoyed by his touch, but he kept it to himself and tried to focus on the black that filled his sight. Eventually he ended up drifting off to sleep with Jean's arms still around his shoulders.

* * *

  
  
Jean woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and dirty at the same time. His eyes fluttered open, being met with a pillow in his arms. He could hear running water in the background as he sat up and stretched. He was still naked from last night and hadn't used much of the blanket, leaving a cold feel on his skin. A shower didn't sound too bad right about now, but he knew from the last time he tried to do it, that if he were to climb in with him, Marco would end up furious. Jean yawned, trying to wake himself up before a sharp pain pulsed through his chest. He winced before running his hand along his chest, trying to massage the area that hurt. Eventually, the pain subsided. Jean scratched his head as he picked up his clothes from the floor and began to put them on, thinking nothing of the odd pain. He left his shirt on the bed and didn't bother to button up his pants. Jean let out another yawn and then stood up and stepped out into the hallway. He turned his head to the door behind him and watched the little bit of steam seep out from under the door only to disappear as it rose in the air. He bit his lip, wanting to go in there, but left it alone, deciding to respect Marco's wishes. After making the decision to leave his love alone, Jean stood from his place on the bed and stretched. His stomach rumbled as a few joints cracked and he decided to venture out into the kitchen.

  
Jean pulled the fridge door open, a slick sticking noise hanging in the air as he leaned against the door. His eyes scanned the food Marco had in his fridge, nothing really catching his attention. He was in the mood for something good, something that had just the right amount of flavor to it. Jean closed the fridge and then began rummaging through Marco's cabinets. Something that was dry, not soggy or wet, something that was-

  
Jean's eyes locked onto one of Marco's spices. The little glass bottle contained something that looked too much like what he was craving just the night before. He quickly shut the cabinet and reached for the box of Frosted Flakes on top of the of the fridge. _'Cereal'll do.._ ' He thought, trying to trick his mind from going back to his earlier craving. He poured the cereal into a bowl, then added milk and took it with him to the table. After taking his first bite into the cereal, he realized that the shower had stopped running. He chewed the cereal, listening to the crunching sounds it made when he bit into them. He hadn't even noticed that he began drumming his fingers against the table until the sound caught his attention. _'Not Good_ ' Jean quickly scooped a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. There was no way he could possibly ask Marco for his help now, Marco never did anything this early in the day. Even if he wanted to, he probably didn't have time for it. By the sound of it, he had to be at the hospital soon, which also meant that Jean would have to go back home before he left.

  
Jean scooped another spoonful into his mouth, listening to Marco moving around in his room down the hall. He felt terrible having to rely on Marco so much, but the freckled man never said anything to Jean about it so it couldn't have been bothering him, right? The only thing that really seemed to bother Marco was the sex. He had talked to Jean about it before but he didn't tell Jean that he wanted to stop fucking, just not to feel the guilt he felt afterwards. Jean felt horrible for not being able to help Marco at all with his feelings but he just wasn't a religious person, so there wasn't much he could do. He could tell that his anti-religious questioning was starting to have an impact on Marco and it was beginning to worry him. Jean knew that a lot of the stuff he said and did went against Marco's religion majorly, but he never put the thought of how it would effect him into any of it. He was so used to doing things freely, it was hard for him to adjust to doing things with more caution. What Jean didn't understand about Marco was, if his religion forbid homosexuality so much, and Marco was such a devoted catholic, why had he decided to start dating Jean in the first place?

  
"My God Jean, can't you even put your clothes on when you eat?" Jean twitched, startled by Marco's deep voice. He was so lost in thought, he didn't notice the stopping of movement in the background.

  
"Hn?" Jean looked down at his chest to find it bear, and his pants still loose around his waist. He forgot how much Marco didn't like him doing that.  
  
"You're gonna get sick walking around like that all the time." Marco said with a worried tone. Marco had on a mid-sleeved black shirt that looked somewhat like a solid color baseball t-shirt. He was wearing his dark brown dress pants and had a towel on top of his head as he rubbed it against his hair to make it dry faster. Jean blushed at how good Marco looked when he had to get dressed up. The damp appearance he had didn't help him in any matter either. Jean turned his head a pink hue decorating his cheeks. _'Now's not the time for this...'_ He told himself. He couldn't help it, he found Marco so goddamn attractive as it was, it was hard to control himself, especially when he looked this good.

  
Marco's brown eyes glanced down at Jean, watching his fingers as they drummed against the table. Jean felt his gaze and immediately pulled his hand under the table. He wasn't going to send Marco off in a worried state. He didn't want to say that Marco wasn't helping his drug addiction at all, because he had. Jean realized that he didn't get quite as jittery as he used to, and when he did, sometimes he had control over it.. Every now and then he'd feel like he absolutely needed the drugs, but Marco was always there when he did. The small craving he was having now, Jean could easily control. Marco shook his head, trying to ignore the bouncing of his knee, and the drumming of his fingers. Marco had his doubts that Jean might have been playing off his cravings, but he never thought about it for more than a minute.

  
The taller man pulled the towel off of his head and tossed it onto one of the chairs by Jean. Jean's eyes wandered over to the damp towel, catching the smell of vanilla soap that radiated off of Marco's skin. He looked up at his brunette haired partner and saw some kind of confusion in his eyes. Jean turned away, a feeling of guilt pulsing through him. He knew that Marco was going through a rough time right now with his whole seconding guessing of his entire life and what-not. Jean wanted to care about it, but it was really hard when he just thought that it was so obviously dumb. He tried to be there for Marco, but anytime Marco talked to him about, Jean would just get angry and throw out a "You really believe that?" and it never helped.

  
Marco ignored Jean's look of worry and began to gather all of the things he needed to take with him to the hospital. He pulled on his messenger-bag and turned to Jean. "You want me to give you a ride?"

  
Jean wanted to say yes, and almost did, but caught himself. He knew deep down that Marco preferred to be away from him when he got to thinking the way he was. Jean bit his lip, then shook his head. "Nah, I can just walk." he responded, standing up and taking the cereal bowl into the kitchen. He rinsed it out and set it in the sink. His hazel eyes glanced over at the table, spotting Marco's keys. He figured that Marco would know that they were there, but when he looked over at him, he was standing by the door way, patting his pockets down and shuffling through his bag for them. He was about to set his things down, and go back into his room, only to hear his keys jingle in front of him.  
Jean held them out to Marco, jingling them to grab his attention. Marco gave a half smile and took them from him."..Thanks."

  
The shorter man nodded. Marco turned towards the door, but stopped and looked over his shoulder at Jean. Marco looked first at Jean's smooth and masculine face, his eyes traveling down Jean's body, taking in every curve of his chest down to his stomach. He felt his heart jump, and quickly looked away. Jean stared at him awkwardly and confused. Marco opened his mouth to say something, but what he was going to say completely escaped him. "Um,..." Marco started. Jean watched him patiently. Marco closed his eyes and then shook his head. "Break. Lunch break." He threw out there. "I'll see you then?"

  
Jean smiled and nodded. "Alright..."

  
Marco smiled slightly."Okay," He turned towards the door, only to turn back towards Jean. "You sure you don't want a ride? That's kind of a far walk y'know."

  
"I'll be fine." Jean assured him.

  
Marco sighed. "I know, I just," He looked down for a minute, then back up at Jean. "I just worry about you..."

  
Jean felt his heart flutter when Marco said that. It was the small words like that that told Jean that this wasn't a one-sided relationship. He smiled, laughing slightly. "Marco, don't worry. I'll be okay."

  
Marco thought a moment, then nodded his head. "...Okay." He stepped away from the door and closer to Jean. Jean slid his hands around his hips, pulling them closer together., and causing a smile to break on Marco's face. Marco tilted his head down, and placed his lips against Jean's. Their lips flickered off one another's for a brief, tender moment. They held a kiss together for a long moment before Marco began to pull away, Jean holding the kiss together for just a second longer. Their eyes locked and Marco smiled. "Break's at four today." After saying that, he pecked his lips on Jean one more time and then turned and walked out the door. Jean stared after him, wishing the moment could've lasted just a bit longer.


	3. Stone-hard

After gathering everything that he had brought over Marco's the night before, Jean headed out the door. He locked the door using the spare key Marco had given him, shifting his backpack onto his shoulders at the same time. He sighed and then began walking back to his home on the other side of the city. Trost was as busy as ever, people crowded the streets, shopping malls were packed, the market place was completely full, everyone had to push and squirm their way through the crowds. As Jean made his way further towards the outer parts of Trost, the streets slowly began to thin. The entire back alley way of Trost gave off a dark feel. Just looking into one of the alley ways could send fear down someone's spine. Not for Jean though. He grew up around here, knowing just how to get out of the tough situations this side of the city had plagued the place with.

  
Jean was walking casually towards his small apartment building that was now in sight. His eyes feel upon the window of the fourth floor, his window. He felt a sudden dread come over him, knowing that he'd be there for a good four hours before he could go back into the city to meet up with Marco for lunch. The entire walk home he had been biting his lips and playing with his fingers through his pockets. The craving he had earlier had gotten worse. It was still small enough for him to control, but if it had gotten this bad in the forty minutes it took to walk home, how bad would it be by the time he'd go to get Marco? Jean peeled off a bit of skin from his lip and then spit it out. A small trickle of blood seeped out of his lip. He ran his tongue over it and quickly stopped the bleeding.

  
The taste of the blood in his mouth made him suddenly remember back to when he was a kid and how he used to always watch the shows with magician's on them. He found the magic tricks so fascinating, always wanting to learn how they obtained magic. When he was younger, his mother used to go on drunken rampages, and if he was in sight, she would talk it out on him. Eventually he learned how to avoid her, and when she was screaming over what ever, he used to hide under his sheets, or in the closet and pretend that magic had taken him to a better place, a happier place where he had a dad, and his mom was always happy. A place where his mom would take him to the park and they'd play for hours on end until she would bring him inside for a big dinner. They'd sit at the table and eat until they couldn't fit anymore food into their stomachs. Then, there parents would put him to bed and maybe read him a bed time story to help him fall asleep. Whenever Jean was scared or angry, he'd go to his closet and throw the sheets over him. He'd sit there, wishing that magic would make him disappear from his house. He used to try and make his toys disappear, but never could. Instead of giving up on the magic he believed in so much, he'd watch his shows over and over again thinking maybe he had said the words wrong, or he had waved the wand the wrong way. Whatever it was, he'd figure out how to make things disappear. The only thing Jean was ever able to make disappear was his mind, and unfortunately it was through drugs. Jean shook his head, hating how he had chosen to do such a stupid thing. Now, years later, he can barely survive a walk without wanting to "disappear". _'Just gotta make it home...'_ Jean told himself. _'Once I get home, I'll take a shower to kill some time...Maybe put on a movie to take my mind off of it...'_

  
As if someone had heard his thoughts, a deep voice called out to him. "Kirschstein!" Jean cringed at the voice he recognized so well. He turned his head slightly to see a tanned brunette, just a tad bit shorter than he was. Jean's eyes locked onto the teal ones that were staring back at him and he groaned. He was the last person Jean needed to see right now. Eren, the man that called out to him, walked over to him, a cigarette placed in between his lips. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and blew out a puff of smoke. "Where the hell you been man? I haven't heard from you in awhile. Is everything alright?"

  
Jean's heart suddenly began thumping in his chest, a small panic holding tight to him. "Ugh, yeah, everything's great..." He said as calmly as he could. Eren looked him over while taking a long drag on his cigarette. Jean felt the smoke travel up his nose, the nicotine from it calming his craving slightly. His eyes locked onto the cancer stick, his blood craving it. He wanted to inhale that thing like it'd be the last thing he would ever do. Eren noticed and then held his cigarette out for Jean to take, cocking an eyebrow. It took every ounce of control Jean had left to deny his offer.

  
Eren's face turned into one of confusion. "No...?" Jean remained quiet. "Dude, you feelin' alright? I'm not charging you for a puff, you know that right?" he joked.

 

Jean nodded, clenching his mouth together tightly. "I'm...trying to quit..."

  
Eren stared at him a minute and then began laughing. "Bullshit." He said in between laughs."You've been addicted to this shit for too long, how the fuck you think you're gonna quit?" Jean stared at him blankly, not quite sure what to say. Eren looked around and then stepped closer to Jean. He pulled something out of his pocket and slyly slid it into Jean's hand "Here. This is on me. Should help you get into your right mind." Eren pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and then chucked it onto the ground., blowing out a puff of smoke He looked up at Jean and smirked mischievously. "Don't be a stranger now." With that he turned and left.

  
Jean stood there for a moment, tense. His finger twitched as his mind focused on what Eren had slid him. Jean was almost positive of what it was, but he tried to tell himself that maybe it was something else. 'Could just be cigarettes...' He told himself. But as he looked down at the item he placed in his hand, his face went pale at the recognition of the plastic bag inside.

 

* * *

  
Jean sat in his room, fingering the plastic bag that Eren had given him. He was beginning to lose his mind to the craving that he had in his hands. He stared down at the marijuana, biting his lips. _'One more time wouldn't hurt...'_ he thought to himself. He tried to fight it, but it was just so fucking hard to when it was right there. He would just take a little bit to calm down, it was nothing serious. Marco even said himself that pot wasn't that bad, it wasn't like he was doing heroine anymore. Before he knew it, he had the drug already packed in a blunt wrap and was now scrounging around for a lighter. He used to always have them laying around, why couldn't he find one now? He suddenly remembered the first time Marco had stopped by his house.

  
Marco seemed rather uncomfortable with the living conditions Jean dealt with and had tried to put some kind of organization to his room. He had gone through all of Jean's things, throwing out anything that was completely useless and putting away everything else in the drawers Jean had never bothered to use. Jean specifically remembered the one thing Marco had done that did make his room feel at a higher standard then what it really was.

  
"This!" Marco chimed holding up an entire bag of all of Jean's lighters. "This is completely useless now. So they get thrown away. That means that you won't have to worry about having to light anything because...!" Marco had waited for Jean to finish his sentence.

  
"...I'm not gonna have anything to light..?" Jean mumbled.

  
Marco smiled. "Good boy." He teased putting the bag of lighters into his coat pocket. "Maybe if you can go a long enough time without this stuff, we can go do something nice like..." Marco thought about it a minute. "I dunno, what would you want to do?"

  
Jean smiled. He barely had to think about it. "Go to the movies. The good ones. Or to see a magician!" Jean said excitedly, having always been fascinated by them since he was a kid.

  
Marco smiled. "Alright..." He tapped his hand on his pocket. "As long as you stay away from these."

  
Jean stared blankly at the blunt he had in his hand. He shook his head trying to set it down, but for some reason he couldn't get himself to let go of it. Jean's hands were shaking madly from the craving that was fogging his memory. It was just one joint. It couldn't do anymore damage to him than what was already done. Jean bit his lip and then remembered that His mom had kept matches in the medicine cabinet for her 'candle baths'. He rushed into the bathroom, trying to avoid his mother and snatched the matches, then retreated back into his room. "Don't do it Jean' He started to tell himself as he began striking the match.'You wont get to go to the movies with Marco..Or to see the magician...' But the craving was too much. Jean struck the match and then held it up to the end of wrap. His fingers were shaking almost uncontrollably as he pulled it to his lips. He placed it in between his lips and took a long drag on it. The drug traveled through his body, filling it with a numbing sensation. Jean rested his head back against his bed, his mind slipping away. He breathed out a thick cloud of white smoke and then took another puff of it.

  
Jean didn't have a clue how long he had been laying there on the ground. He lost track of time hours ago. His eyes had been focused on his small stuffed animal that was laying next to him on his floor. Jean had been having conversations with the dog, him occasionally laughing at something the dog had apparently told him. He reached for the plastic bag that was just above him and pulled out another blunt, lighting it with another match. He had done this at least three times already. The drug had calmed Jean so well the first time that after he had gotten in the shower and out, he found himself about to throw the bag away, but the effect of the drug had slipped from him and instead of getting rid of it in the trash can, he got rid of it by lighting joint after joint. "This is my last one, promise." He said aloud to an invisible friend.  
Jean heard the sound of his cell phone go off, the ringing penetrating his cloudy mind only a little. Jean laughed at the ringtone and then began singing along to the song of Anberlin's cover of 'Love Song' by 311. "...I will always love you..." He finished after the ringing had stopped. Jean smiled and then closed his eyes, drifting off into sleep. "...always love you..." He mumbled to himself, the image of Marco appearing before him. He smiled. "...always...love..."

* * *

 

  
The sound of pounding cracked into Jean's mind. At first, he blocked it out, but then the pounding got louder, sending him upright in a jolt. He rubbed his eyes, listening for the noise again. After it started up one more time, he realized it was coming from his window. Jean turned his head towards the glass, surprised by two things; First, it was Marco pounding on his window and Second, it was already night time.  
Jean stood up to let him in, but found it hard to keep balance. He looked over at his clock to find the numbers glowing at 8:56 p.m. Jean blinked, looking again, not able to believe the time. Marco pounded hard on the window to bring Jean's attention back towards him. Jean's head snapped toward the window also now realizing that it was raining. He quickly walked over to the window and unlatched it, letting a soaking wet Marco into his room. Marco jumped down from the window seal and stared deadly at Jean. Jean gulped, he knew he was furious. Marco's jaw was locked tight, his fists clenched together. Jean looked down, like a puppy would during a scolding from his master. Jean's eyes then landed on the plastic bag laying just in front of Marco's foot. His face went pale as his earlier actions flooded into his mind. Marco's anger kept him from noticing. He finally opened his mouth to say something. "...I...waited..." Marco started. "Out in the FUCKING rain...For over an hour..." Jean looked down at Marco's wet clothes. "Then, I come by here, climb up the FUCKING wall, just to find you laying on your bed, sleeping." Jean's eyes went back to the plastic bag on the floor. All Marco had to do was take a step forward and he was done. "Then after that, I spend two hours pounding on your FUCKING WINDOW!" Marco began leaning closer to him, Jean fearing that he might step forward and lose the last bit of patience he was barely holding onto. "Did you not hear me calling? I left ten FUCKING VOICEMAILS Jean! TEN!" Marco closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. Jean took that opportunity to kick the bag under his bed, and out of sight. "Do you have any idea how fucking worried I was? I tried calling you a little after I left to tell you I'd be getting off early. I thought we could maybe do something together, go to the movies or something, but you didn't pick up your fucking phone. I started freaking out, driving around all over the fucking place looking for you. I stopped by, but no one was home. Jean, I thought something terrible had happened to you. Why didn't you pick up when I was calling?"

  
Jean bit his lip. There was no way he could tell Marco what he did. It could end up the last thing he'd say to him as his boyfriend. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry...I fell asleep... I didn't know you were calling..."

  
"For six hours!? You fell asleep for six hours straight?" Marco questioned. Jean remained quiet, looking away from his worried face. Marco let out a frustrated sigh. He ran his hand through his thick brunette hair. It took him a minute before he started talking again. "Jean...maybe we should..." The shorter man looked up at Marco, his throat closing up at what he expected him to say. "Maybe we should...just. stop seeing..." Marco bit his lip, then looked at Jean. He stared at him for a moment, and then cocked his head slightly, his sad and worried face turning into a more professional one. "Look at me..." Jean kept his eyes locked onto the floor. "Jean, look at me." Jean still didn't look. Marco reached forward and then grabbed Jean by his face, holding his chin forward. Marco stared into Jean's eyes, his mouth dropping slightly in disbelief. "You've gotta be kidding me..." Jean closed his eyes, guilt crashing down on him. "You've been high outta your fucking mind." Marco let go of Jean with such force, it caused him to stumble backwards a bit. Marco shook his head, biting down on his cheek to keep from exploding. He let out a long sigh, calming himself down before erupting. "Where is it?"

  
Jean looked up at him, already feeling his eyes begin to swell up with tears. He tried to open his mouth to tell him, but his voice was choked off by tears. Marco stared at him growing impatient. "Dammit Jean, I'll tear this fucking room apart if you don't tell me." Jean swallowed and then took in a deep breath.

  
"It's...under my..."Jean didn't finish. Marco stood there a moment and then looked at his bed. He quickly dropped to his knees and looked under his bed. His eyes landed on the plastic bag. Marco closed his eyes, wishing that it wasn't true, but it was. He reached under and pulled out the bag. The taller man stood up and dangled the bag in front of Jean.

  
"Was it worth it?" Jean didn't say anything, confused by what he was asking. "Well? Was it?" Jean looked down, a tear strolling down his cheek. "I'm done." Marco said, his own voice cracking with the threat of tears. "I can't do this anymore Jean. I can't hold your hand every fucking day."

  
"Marco," Jean started.

  
Marco clenched the bag in his hand. "Do you know what I did today?"

  
Jean shook his head, the tears streaming down his face now. "I'm sorry...I couldn't take it..."

  
Marco swallowed a lump in his throat. He couldn't stand to see Jean the way he was, but he was too angry to give in either. "I took my name off of the volunteer list at my church. I gave them back their books." Jean looked at him confused. "I gave up my fucking religion Jean! Just so I could be with a fucking drug addict!" Marco's eyes were flooded with tears. Jean's body jolted for a moment before locking in place. He wasn't sure what to do, but he wanted to help. He was shocked with the news Marco had just told him.

  
"Marco..." Marco wiped his eyes and looked up at Jean. Jean wanted to help but what was he supposed to do? Marco didn't give him a room to breathe, he just tried to cut him off completely and it was hard. As far as Jean was concerned, Marco didn't have any right to be angry at him right now. He understood being pissed off about being left outside, but because he got high once? Jean suddenly felt a bit of anger on his side. "Hey," Jean started, grabbing Marco's attention. "It's been six months since the last time I did anything, I haven't even had a goddamn cigarette and you want to leave me for the first time I smoked pot?" Marco opened his mouth to talk but Jean cut him off. "Marco, I know that dealing with me has to be hard, but think about it...I've done almost any kind of drug you can think of and in six months with you, I was able to stop..." Marco looked down, his face once again damp with tears. "Today was the first day I didn't tell you about a craving and look at how quickly I fell to it." Jean's voice cracked off into sobs. "Marco, without you, there'd be no way I could stop..."

  
"Jean..."Marco cried. He looked down at the floor and wiped his eyes. "P-promise me Jean," Jean looked at him, their eyes locking after Marco looked up."Promise me that if I give you another chance... You won't give this another chance." Marco said indicating the weed. Jean stared at the bag and then into Marco's brown eyes.

  
"Promise..." Jean mumbled. "I promise you Marco. " Marco stared at him for a minute and then nodded.

  
"Okay..." He moved in closer to Jean and placed his hands behind Jean's neck. "I promise...to leave religion out of our relationship."

  
Jean was absolutely thrown off by how ridiculous Marco's promise was. "Marco, you don't have to-"

  
"Jean, I do...I noticed how uncomfortable those prayers made you...and, I think you were right anyways..." Jean stared at Marco's soft delicate face, waiting. "It is just a buncha bullshit...I just grew up being taught religion so it was instinct for me to think that way. I realized now that I felt different about it. I was taught that if I didn't believe, I'd be sent to a place filled with torture, so I wouldn't let myself think otherwise...but now I realize that any place without you is enough torture..."

  
"Marco..."

  
Marco locked eyes with Jean and then smiled. He leaned closer and kissed Jean sweetly, his lips cold from the rain. Jean ran his thumb up the side of his cheek, wiping away a tear that was rolling down his cheek. Marco smiled through the pain and kissed Jean again.

  
Jean pressed his lips into Marco's with more passion than he ever had before. Their lips brushed against one another's, tongues lightly flickering in between. Marco felt Jean's hands travel up his shirt, removing the wet cloth from his cold skin. Jean ran his hands along Marco's sides, taking in all the detail. His body was toned, and dusted with freckles, his skin was soft and smooth. He rested his hands on Marco's hips and connected their lips yet again. Marco ran his hands along Jean's arms, then to his shirt, running his fingers through the thin creases along his white v-neck. He found his fingers at the bottom and began pulling it off, gently taking it over his head. After his shirt came off, Marco threw it off to the side and then stared into Jean's eyes. He loved this man with all his heart and he knew that there wasn't anything anyone could do to make him think otherwise. His spine tingled with heat, his heart pounding in his rib cage.

  
There was a still moment where they just stared at each other, admiring one another. Jean broke the stillness and began kissing him, pushing his body back carefully onto the bed and following onto him. Marco stared up at Jean, watching as the man pulled apart the button to his pants. He slid his fingers under the hem of his boxers and pulled them downward, kneeling off of him to pull them off completely. He threw Marco's pants off to the side and began undoing his own. Marco took the time to reach over to the bedside and slide his hand into Jean's nightstand drawer. After blindly searching around, his hand finally found the familiar grasp of a bottle. He pulled out a half empty bottle of lube that the two kept here for times that Marco was ever over. Jean took the bottle from him and flicked the lid open, pouring a small amount onto the ends of his fingers. He coated them nicely before sliding them down between Marco's entrance. Jean started kissing along Marco's neck, while gently pushing his fingers inside of Marco. His tightened for a moment, before relaxing and adjusting to Jean's fingers. His eyes looked upward to the man above him, clouded with lust. Jean's erection twitched to the stare Marco gave him, his heart pounding and wanting so badly to be inside of him already. He took in a deep breath to try to clear his mind and be gently with Marco, as hard as it was. He stretched his fingers apart and fingered around the entrance, before sliding in further, feeling his muscles loosen and then clench around his joints.

  
Marco impatiently removed Jean's boxers and then latched his lips onto Jean's collarbone, trying to get the point across that he was ready. Jean withdrew his fingers and then hovered over him, gently resting his body against Marco's. Marco let out a deep breath, relaxing himself as he anticipated feeling Jean inside him. Hazel eyes stared at Marco's naked body, taking in every ounce of detail. Jean couldn't handle himself anymore and grabbed for the bottle of lube again. He dripped a small amount onto his hand and then slid it onto his dick, giving a few strokes before lust for the brunette underneath him took control of him. He spread Marco's legs farther apart and brought himself up to Marco. He slowly eased himself inside of him, his nerves bouncing all over the place. Marco squeezed onto Jean's hair, letting out another breath to keep himself relaxed. He closed his eyes, arching his back up into Jean's stomach, as Jean pushed himself fully into him. Marco's mouth hung open slightly at the small pain that traveled through him for the short time Jean had been inside of him. Jean kissed along his cheek bones, holding himself still for a moment so Marco could adjust. After a minute, Marco rolled his hips into Jean's to get him to start moving, his heart skipping to the tingling sensation coursing through him.

  
Pleasure began to tingle through their bodies, first at a slow rate, and then increasing with each passing second. "Jean..." Marco breathed against his ear, sending a chill down Jean's spine. He continued to press his body against Jean, wrapping his legs around his waist to secure their position. Jean ran his hand along Marco's thigh, grabbing him for support while he pushed further into him, and then pulled himself out. Marco held tight onto Jean's neck, their foreheads pressed against each others. He ran his bottom lip against Jean's cheek, then kissed him through all of the pleasure.

  
It was the first time in a long time Marco hadn't felt that twist of guilt stabbing at his conscious. In fact, if he remembered correctly, the last time he had felt like this was when he first kissed Jean. Marco smiled, staring into his lovers eyes, recalling the precious moment.

  
Jean was still being treated for his addiction, put through therapy and all that good stuff. He was sitting in his bed, eating with Marco during his break. They had become rather close in the long weeks they spent together. Jean finally felt that he had someone to rely on for once, and Marco felt happy just to know he had made such an impact on the kid. Marco had just finished explaining to Jean his relationship towards his family. "...I'm not really sure why, but my mother died accusing me of being a demon from hell.."

  
Jean stared at him with a look of sorrow. "Marco...that's...I'm sorry."

  
Marco shook his head. "Nah, it never really bothered me. I mean, I guess in a way it did, but I eventually got over it. My father died a few years ago, and me and my siblings kinda tried to start over. I guess the main reason why they denied me so much was because of how I used to behave in church. I guess I didn't really respect the place when I was a kid... That, and just following the resentment my father always had for me.."

  
"Well, that's not your fault... you can't help how you behave when you're a kid." Jean said. Marco shrugged it off like it was nothing and bit into the sandwich he brought for lunch. Jean watched him as he chewed, his gaze looking at something on the wall. Marco felt his eyes on him and glanced over at Jean. His heart jumped immediately at the structure of Jean's face. His features were sharp and toned, his jawline very defined but gentle at the same time. Marco felt his face reddened. He pulled a napkin out of his pocket and tried to hide his face by pretending there was something on it. Jean sighed and took a bite out of his hospital food, watching Marco as he bit into the sandwich once again. Jean smiled a bit when he saw a speck of the food resting on his lip. "You got something..." Jean indicated his face and Marco immediately wiped his cheek. "No, it's right- Here lemme get it." He took the napkin from Marco and reached out to wipe it off his lip, his eyes staring at the parted skin. The soft, smooth texture drew Jean to him like a magnet. Marco stared at Jean's smooth, toned skin, and lost himself in the texture, forgetting what Jean was even doing in the first place. There was a tranquil air between them, their hearts beating loudly in their ears. Without giving him time to think about what he was doing, Jean placed his lips on Marco's and shared the most sincere moment they had yet. Jean's tongue pressed against Marco's as their lips flickered against each others.

  
It wasn't until a minute later that Marco pulled away. He covered his hand with his mouth, shocked at what he had just done. Without saying another word, he got up and began to leave. "Marco, wait-!" Jean called after him as he watched Marco rush out of the room. Jean's head dropped, his eyes staring down at the napkin in his hand.

  
Marco closed his eyes ignoring the rest of the memory. He moaned slightly, his lips connected to Jean's. His heart was pounding so fast in his chest, his nerves numb with pleasure, his mind fogged by lust, it had to be the best moment of his life. It felt almost like Jean and Marco had never fucked once before, and that this was their first time. Marco pushed his tongue passed Jean's lips and took in his taste with so much need. Jean felt Marco clench around him, making a small moan escape his lips. He felt the heat clamping around his dick, making him thrust into Marco for more. They had sex so many times before, but Jean could never remembering feeling his lust so high for him than now. He wanted all of him so badly, and with each breath he took, he felt like he couldn't get enough of him. He stared at Marco, needing more of him. His hips rolled harder into him as if the further he went, the more Marco was his. The darker haired man threw his head back at the sudden roughness and smiled in ecstasy. "Ohh, Jean..." He pushed himself against Jean, trying to get him to go further. Jean got the hint and pounded into him with more intensity, his muscles clenching tightly as he stayed in place to let the pleasure flow through his body. Marco wrapped his hands around Jean's back."Oh! J-Je-" Marco cut off into moans, once again arching himself upwards. He bit his lips at an attempt to contain himself, but failed. Jean breathed down Marco's neck, feeling his climax coming on. He dug his nails into Marco's hips rushing into him. Marco pulled his legs further upward, trying to get more of the blissful pleasure to run through his freckled body. He gripped onto Jean, moaning loudly, felicity overcoming his entire being. Jean pressed harder and harder into Marco, forcing out the lustful moans, and the pleasurable movement.

  
They were at it for a while before Jean threw himself into Marco one last time, riding out the rest of his climax and then collapsing beside him. They laid there for awhile, trying to catch their breaths. Marco turned onto his side and lazily threw his head against Jean's under arm. He closed his eyes, relaxing to the sound of Jean's beating heart. His breath had steadied, his body calming down from the euphoria. He ran his hand along Jean's arm, feeling for his grasp. Once his hand slipped into his, he laced their fingers together, then felt the warm lips from his partner press against his forehead. "I love you Jean..." He mumbled just before he drifted off into sleep.

  
He wasn't sure if Jean had responded to it or not, the black slumber took hold of him before he could tell, but he didn't need to hear it from him to know it was true.


	4. Ricochet

Marco woke up the next morning to the sound of his phone going off. The ringtone indicated that it was from the hospital. He jumped up looking at the clock, only to see that it was two hours earlier than his normal work schedule. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his vision and looking for his pants. His eyes adjusted to the morning darkness, and he spotted his pants on the other side of the room, and quickly jumped out of bed to dig his phone out of his pocket. The ringing hadn't stopped, and seemed to grow louder with each ring. Marco reached into his pocket, found it empty, then dug into the next one. He pulled out his phone and quickly flipped it open. "Hello?" He asked, pulling out a blanket and wrapping it around himself.

  
"Marco?" A woman from the other end asked. Marco looked over at Jean's sleeping body and then stepped out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. The woman's voice had a sound of distress in it.

  
"Yes? He asked.

  
"It's about your sister, Marcie. She's gone into labor." Marco sighed slightly, thankful it wasn't anything dangerous. He couldn't help but feel that the sentence she said had somehow hinted at something worse. "She was asking for you to be there, I figured I could at least let you know."

  
Marco nodded. "Thank you, I'll be up there in a minute." He hung up the phone and then quietly stepped back into the room. He set his phone down and then dropped the sheets, picking up his boxers.

  
He dressed into yesterday's clothes that were still a bit damp from the rain and headed towards the door. He heard the bed creak, then turned to see Jean rolling onto his side. Marco bit his lip before deciding to say goodbye. He walked over to the bed and leaned above Jean. Jean felt his presence above him and tiredly, his eyes flickered open. He was startled to see Marco dressed and ready to leave. "Where are you going?" He said, his voice groggy.

  
Marco leaned down to Jean and kissed him. "I gotta go over to the hospital, Marcie just went into labor."

  
"Oh..." Jean murmured. Marco sighed and then ran his hand through Jean's hair. He at least smiled slightly at his touch.

  
"Will you be okay by yourself?" Jean nodded, assuring him that he'd be fine. Marco stared at him for a moment, then kissed him once again and left. The shorter man sighed, staring down at the sheets him and Marco had spoiled the night before, then closed his eyes and let himself drift back to sleep.

  
Marco stepped outside to find it once again pouring. He sighed and then rushed over to his car, and quickly climbed inside. He turned the keys in the ignition and began driving towards Trost's hospital. Marco yawned, looking at the time. 6:49 a.m. Marcie picked the perfect time to give birth. He rubbed his eyes and then nearly passed up the Hospital entrance. Speeding into the parking lot, he quickly parked the car and then turned it off, sitting in there for a moment trying to wake himself up. He left out another yawn, and then climbed out of the car and into the rain.

* * *

 

  
Marco rushed into the hospital, and up to Marcie's room. He was surprised to see all of the people inside of the small room. His throat tightened once he realized that he'd have to explain to his family why he wouldn't be attending to church anymore. Almost as if they had felt his thoughts, all of his family members heads turned towards him. Marco swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped further into the room. He walked up to one of the doctors and asked how Marcie was coming along. The doctor seemed to be frowning through his mask. He shook his head and then pulled Marco off to the side. Marco turned back to the rest of the family only to find their faces bent in curiosity. The doctor turned to him and pulled down his mask. "Something might be wrong. We're not sure what it could be, the baby was doing perfectly fine throughout her entire pregnancy and now we're getting bad responses from it. We haven't told anyone else about this because we're not really sure that this will cause a problem. Once we get the baby out, we can easily figure out the issue and fix it."

  
Marco blinked, dumbstruck by the sudden news. "What do you mean bad responses?"

  
The doctor swallowed thickly before continuing. "Just a moment ago, it's heart stopped. It was only for a few seconds, but it still stopped."

  
Marco stared at him, confused. "Stopped? Babies hearts don't just stop and then start up again without something bad happening." The doctor looked at a loss for words. Marco sighed stressfully and turned back into the room, looking at Marcie as the nurses were trying to get her prepared. He shook his head and then turned back to the doctor. "This baby had better not die on her, you hear me?" He threatened. The doctor blinked and nodded.

  
Though Marco wasn't exactly on good terms with the rest of his family, Marcie had always stood by his side. She was the one that at least tried to make conversation with the boy through his later childhood. While their brother had always acted in an awkward manner towards him, Marcie at least seemed to show sympathy. His uncle had despised Marco throughout most of his life due to the fact that if he hadn't of been born, his dear sister would still be alive. Due to his mother's dying words, religion had quickly become another excuse for his uncle's hatred towards him. Even though Marco and his uncle had been talking after the death of his father, the loathing feeling had always lingered in the air whenever they were in the same room. Marcie always acted as the peacemaker between the family. She always found ways to calm his Uncle when Marco had said the wrong thing, and comforting Marco when everything seemed to be a force against him. Marco hadn't exactly been able to do much for Marcie so he wanted to at least make sure that the baby his sister carried would come through.

  
"Yes, of course. "The doctor assured. Marco stared at him a minute longer to get his point across and then went back into the room. He walked past his Uncle, and then his brother, completely ignoring the tension the two gave off and stood next to Marcie to examine her well being himself. He looked to the monitor that was hooked up to her, then back to her. She stared at him with a look of worry, her skin coated in sweat. She figured if her brother was a doctor, it wasn't usually a good thing if he wanted to look at her himself. She put her hand on top of his to catch his attention. Marco twitched almost unnoticeably, looking up at his older sister. She gave a worried smile. "There's nothing wrong, is there?" She asked in a hushed voice.

  
Marco felt all of the eyes in the room land on him. He looked into the soft blue color of his sisters, seeing the worry that was eating her alive. She could feel the obvious uneasiness coming from the doctors. Marco swallowed down a lump and began to talk. "There's...Um," He looked back at the monitor and then to his sister. "There's nothing wrong, don't worry." Marcie smiled at the answer, but there was still concern in her face.

  
"If you say so... then, alright." She breathed. Marco felt like he was about to throw up. He looked over at the doctors. They were going through paperwork and didn't seem to have much of a care for what was going on. He looked at the blonde haired and blue eyed doctor he had just spoken to and could see the hint of worry in his face. He turned back to his family and then back to the doctor. Marco walked up to him, seeing him monitoring the baby, through a small screen.

  
"Hey." The doctor spun around, his eyes landing on Marco. "Look, um..." He tried to find a name among his clothing.  
"Armin." The man responded, picking up on his actions. Marco nodded his head.

  
"Armin," He ran his hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to, ugh, well."

  
Armin smiled in an understanding way. "Don't worry about it, from the looks of things, the baby should be fine. It may just've been a misreading in the monitor, everything's showing up well on here. I hope I didn't worry you, I just felt that I needed to let you know when something happens..." Armin said apologetically. Marco nodded, about to turn and head back over to his sister, but then awkwardly turned back to him.

  
"Let me do the procedure." Marco said in almost a demanding way.

  
Armin blinked. "What?" He asked like he had misheard.

  
"I know it sounds odd but, Marcie doesn't trust the hospital. If I'm doing it then she can relax a little bit. If she's worrying too much, it could affect the way-"

  
"Marco, we don't let doctors do any kind of procedure on their family members, it's against the rules." Armin stated bluntly.

  
"Well, they don't need to know it's me." Marco threw back at him.

  
Armin shook his head. "I'm sorry but, you yourself aren't in any kind of state to be doing anything on the patient. You're worrying too much. The most I can let you do is stay by her side while she's giving birth." Marco opened his mouth and then shut it. He was right, Marco was far from in good shape to even help with the procedure. He'd just have to stay by Marcie and talk her through it. Armin looked back at the monitor, watching it closely to make sure he did just make a mistake. One of the nurses came running up to Armin.

  
"The baby's coming." She quickly said. Armin put down his things and rushed back into the room, Marco lingering a minute before returning with him. He watched as his sister threw her hands across her body in the shape of a cross and then mumbled a prayer to herself. He bit his lip and walked over to her side. He noticed that the nurses had sent away the rest of their family. Marcie smiled. "I asked them to let you stay..."

Marco turned back to his sister, confused by the decision. "Why me?" He asked.

"Because you're the only one that can handle this... You deal with these kinds of things every day, don't you?"

  
Marco could tell that there was a small panic going through his sister. Their father had always told them that it was the doctors fault that their mother hadn't pulled through. He preached about how the humans were messing with the destiny God had chosen for them and that by trying to alter it, they had killed their mother sooner than her time. Marcie had always feared that she would never make it through labor and had always been reluctant to have children. She wouldn't of had kids in the first place, but after having a one night stand with a man, she wound up pregnant. The family had begun to resent her for her 'irresponsibility', casting Marcie into a world of depression. She was just an empty body for the longest time and had even thought about going through phone books and internet searches to find a way to get rid of the baby. The entire church had looked down on her, and to anyone that found out about it, she was just considered a whore. Marco hated seeing her sister that way, and when he found out about he made sure to be there for her.

  
Marco had returned his favor by pulling her from it and talking her through the entire thing and out of abortion. He knew that she wanted this baby, and he knew that he did do something like get an abortion, she would hate herself for the rest of her life. It wasn't like he couldn't help support the kid either, he wouldn't ever think to tell her otherwise if he knew there wasn't a good life for the child. Marcie was always strong when it came to religion, but unfortunately, she was weak to the influence of others. She had hated herself for her own mistake, her family members resentment feeding her depression. His Uncle had convinced her that she would be a repeat of her mother for the way she acted, while their older brother Merrick had just not talked to her. Marco always treated Marcie with respect. He felt like they could connect in a way, both of them feeling the resentment and their mistakes. He had almost confessed to her about Jean, but kept it to himself, forgetting that Marcie had done almost everything by the bible.

  
Marco smirked. "Don't worry about it, nothing bad's gonna happen. I promise."

  
Marcie swallowed hard, her eyes starting to swell up with tears. "I'm scared, Marco." Marco grabbed her hand and gently rubbed it for comfort. She smiled slightly, but she was still terrified.

  
"It's gonna be alright. Take a deep breath." Marcie inhaled and then squeezed tightly onto his hand, feeling the baby beginning to come through. The nurses began to talk to Marcie, telling her to steady her breathing, and not to worry. Marco felt his hand going numb as she squeezed onto it like a lifeline. It was only a matter of time before she had began screaming from the agonizing pain. It killed Marco a little inside, having to watch his sister endure so much pain. Sweat had formed on her forehead and around her neck, her eyes foggy from all the pain. Marco kept talking Marcie to a calm, every time she felt like giving up on it. He talked to her with a mellowness that relaxed her only for moments.

  
It had been a long, agonizing birth, the baby almost out. Marco was almost positive that Marcie had broken at least one of his fingers from grabbing it so tightly. He felt his phone go off in his pants pocket and he realized he completely forgot to shut it off. The tune could barely be heard through Marcie's screams and the doctors talking. He recognized the tune as the Anberlin song, the ring tone for Jean. He wanted to answer it, worrying that he might have been having his cravings again, but his hands were occupied. Marco then decided to ignore it. 'I'll call him back right after this is over...' He told himself. Marco turned back to his sister, watching her begin to hyperventilate. "Marcie, breathe in and out." Marco said to her. She tried to listen to him, trying to steady her breaths but not doing very well. "Just hang on, you're almost done." She nodded and again tried to steady her breaths. Marco thought back to his phone. Jean hadn't called back, so it must not have been anything important. Jean had always called again and again if it was serious. Marco let the phone call slide into the back of his head, the baby's crying tearing his thoughts back to his sister. Marco felt air slide to his fingers and then realized that Marcie had finally pushed the baby out.

She laid on the bed, exhausted and sweaty. Armin had taken the baby and begun to rinse it off. The nurses allowed the family members back inside, his Uncle giving Marco a cold stare as he entered. Marco ignored it, then felt the presence of his older brother behind him. "How'd she do?" He asked.

  
Marco looked up at him and then down to Marcie. "She made it..." He replied, shaking his hand trying to get feeling back into it. Merrick bit his lip, staring down at Marco's hand.

  
"It was that bad, huh?" Marco lifted up his hand, seeing that it had turned a light shade of blue.

  
He blinked, feeling awkward at the typical conversation he was having with his brother. "You should've seen her." Marco said with a laugh.

Merrick stared down at Marcie and sighed. Marco felt the tensity of the air increase slightly. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say..."Um, I didn't mean..." Marco cut off trying to figure out how to word it. "It was just- I wasn't..."

  
Merrick looked up at him, confused. "Whaddya talking about?" Marco blinked, feeling stupid now. Merrick looked back at Marcie, a sad smile on his face. "This was how ma looked when she died...She was so exhausted looking and tired..." Marco looked down. The last thing he wanted to talk about was the death of his mother. Merrick rested his hand on Marcie's forehead. She had gone completely unconscious, too worn out to stay awake any longer. "She's not gonna...you know...?"

  
"Huh?" Marco blinked, realizing it was him he was asking. "N-no, she's perfectly fine. This is a normal thing for woman to do after going through labor. Mom just died from..." Marco looked down again. "Loss of... blood..." He mumbled.

  
A nurse came up to the three of them, a clipboard in hand. "Excuse me, do you know if she had decided a name for the baby?" his Uncle looked over at the two and then shrugged.

  
"Not as far as I know..." He told her. The nurse nodded.

  
"Well, we can always wait for her to wake up and ask her then." She smiled and then turned on her heel and left.


	5. Chapter 5

Marco sat in his car, driving back towards Jean's house. He had just gotten out of the hospital, leaving to check up on Jean before he could get a chance to hear what name was given to the newborn. He picked up his phone to call Jean back, hitting the speed dial before his eyes could catch the voice mail he had. He held the phone up to his ear, listening to the continuing pattern of ringing before Jean's voice picked up. "Hey, It's Jean, can't pick up the pho-" Marco pressed the end button and then hit the speed dial again. He was met by the same response. He hung up his phone and then tossed it on the leather seat next to him.

  
Marco found himself sitting at a red light, stuck in the back of traffic. His eyes met with the glow of 9:19 a.m. He threw his head back and groaned. There was no way he'd be able to make it to Jean's and back in time for work. He looked down at his cell phone and bit the side of his cheek. 'Maybe he was in the shower...' Marco drummed his fingers against the stearing wheel. 'I'll at least leave a message...' He decided, picking up his phone and speed dialing Jean again. He had hoped Jean would pick up this time, but he was met with the same message. He waited for his voice mail to finish and then left his message. "Hey, its Marco. I'm on my way over there, I dunno how much longer it'll take, I'm stuck at a light. Call me when you get this." He hung up and then threw his phone back onto the passengers seat.

  
It took a good twenty minutes before Marco got past the red light. He took a longer way there, figuring that the main road would be backed up as well, with everyone heading to work at this hour. He bit his lip wondering what it was that kept Jean from picking up the phone. Just as his mind brought the question up, an ambulance sped by him. ' Hopefully he didn't...' Marco didn't finish his thought.

* * *

  
Jean stretched out his legs, not able to fall back asleep after Marco had left. An odd pain in his stomach had been keeping him awake. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, pulling himself awake. He looked at the clock seeing that it was only 7:20 a.m. 'Marco must've just gotten there a few minutes ago...' He thought to himself. Jean ran his hand against his chest, pushing on his pressure points. Whatever it was, it wasn't going away. He threw the sheets off of his bare legs and walked over to his closet. Jean pulled out a set of clothes and put on a pair of regular blue jeans, with a black and white baseball tee. He let out a yawn, stretching before the pain in his chest stopped him. Jean again pushed at his pressure points, hoping it would subside. He sat still a moment, waiting for the pain to stop. It grew weaker, but he could still feel it there. He shook his head, trying not to think about what it may have been.

  
Jean spent the next hour or so, suffering with the pain in his chest. Every now and then it'd start pounding with such pain, Jean would keep himself from breathing until it'd pass. He lay on his bed trying to fight the pain off by taking in deep breaths and exhaling them slowly. It was now a quarter past eight. 'M-Maybe I should call Marco...He should be able to tell me what to do...' Jean picked up his phone, staring at Marco's phone number. He didn't want to bother him with his sister giving birth. He set his phone down and then walked into the bathroom, opening up the medicine cabinet. He dug through the pill bottles, looking for some kind of pain relievers. Jean found a bottle of Tylenol and quickly popped out two pills from the bottle. He picked up the glass of water they kept in the bathroom and filled it with water. The pain in his chest was emerging again, this time worse than before. Jean closed his eyes, wincing at the pain, and then placed the pills in his mouth. He brought the glass to his lips, pouring some into his mouth. His eyes widened after realizing he couldn't swallow the water. He dropped the glass, the water from his mouth spilling out, taking the pills with it. His eyes watered as the pain cut off his lungs. He stood still for a moment, trying to get the pain to pass, but it wasn't going anywhere. Jean quickly rushed into the room, grabbing his phone and calling Marco. His heart speed up as he began to slip into a panic. He tried to draw in deep breaths, but cut off when the pain was too sharp. Marco hadn't answered his panic in him began to rise. His voice mail picked up and Jean began begging for relief into the phone. Tears flooded his vision as the lump in his chest seemed to widen. "M-Marco, Please pick up, please. I-I can't breathe, My chest..., there's something inside my chest... Marco please, I don't know what to do, It... won't go away, I can't... breathe, Please pick up, I'm scared." He cried into the speaker. The phone slipped from his grasp as the pain spread further. He tried to take in air, but nothing came into his lungs. He grabbed at his chest as the lump seemed to expand further. His hands gripped at his throat, as if he could pull open his lungs and let the air fill them. He cried in agony before hearing the door knob jingle. His eyes quickly landed on the door. "M-Marco, please." He prayed to himself. His lungs felt like they were going to burst trying to pull air in, as his mom walked into the door. Jean tried to rush over to her, but his body began to fill with a numbing tingle.

  
His mom looked up and saw Jean's blue face and dropped everything she was carrying. "Jean!" She quickly rushed over to him as he lost his balance and fell. His mom immediately began to perform CPR, then dug into her pocket for her phone.

  
_"911, what's your emergen-"_

  
"My son! Somethings Wrong! H-He can't breathe! Please, I don't know what to do!" His mom yelled.

  
"Calm Down ma'am. Tell us your location and we'll send an ambulance." The voice responded.

  
His mom took in a deep breath and told them their address. She looked down at Jean's pale face. "Please Hurry..." She pleaded.

* * *

  
Marco tried calling Jean's phone, but was met once again with his voice mail. He was starting to get frustrated."Jean, pick up your fucking phone! I can't make it to your house, there's too much traffic. Please answer, I don't want to turn around if you need me...Call me as soon as you get this, please. I'm starting to get really worried..." Marco clicked off his phone and stared down at it. He waited a moment longer for it to ring, then turned around and headed back for the hospital. He'd try and call him again once he got there. Marco sighed, taking an alternate route back to the hospital. He wished he would've taken this way in the first place, he would've maybe made it in time to check up on Jean and then head back.

  
Marco turned into the parking lot, his eyes meeting the bright red color of the same ambulance that had passed him before. Marco sighed. What a great way to start the day...He grabbed his phone and hopped out of the car. Today was going to be a hectic day, he could already tell if there was a birth and an emergency case with in the same time period.

  
As soon as Marco punched in, the nurses rushed up to him, asking him to take the patient that had just arrived. "...It's a male at age twenty-three, he's suffering from some kind of blockage to the lungs." One of the nurses explained. Marco rubbed his eyes and took the clipboard from the nurse. His heart dropped when his eyes feel onto the name. "Jean..." he mumbled.

  
He dropped the clipboard and quickly rushed into the room. Jean was laying on the bed, crying as the doctors ran around like a bunch of headless chickens. Marco ran over to his side, seeing that they had just hooked the monitors up to his chest, his heart was pumping at a slow and unhealthy rate. Marco couldn't believe his eyes. Jean was barley conscious. He looked up at Marco and tried to form a smile, but he couldn't feel a single thing in his body. Marco snapped to the doctors. "Somebody get him an oxygen mask! He's going to die if we don't get oxygen into his lungs!" He ordered. Marco quickly began feeling at Jean's chest, trying to understand what was happening, but Jean's body wasn't giving any hints. His shirt had been torn open, indicating that Marco wasn't the first one to examine his chest. A nurse approached him with an oxygen mask. Marco yanked it from her and quickly wrapped it around Jean's mouth, squeezing the oxygen into his lungs. Jean closed his eyes, the pain too much for him to handle. Marco turned back to the nurse. "We need to scan him, to see what's going on in his system."

  
The nurse stood there awkwardly. "Can we even do that when he's-"

  
"Go do it! We don't have time to stand here and talk!" Marco yelled.

  
The nurse yelled back. "We probably don't have time to run the scans either! If his lungs are beginning to fail, then we don't have the time to run a bunch of tests on him!"

  
Marco looked back at her and opened his mouth, only for a sob to escape his lips. He turned back to Jean. Marco had never once lost a patient. He had always known what to do when they were rolled into his office. He had a way of picking up the right clues from the signals that their bodies gave off. Right now, he couldn't find anything. For the first time, he didn't know what to do. He stared down into Jean's pale face, squeezing more air into his lungs, keeping his heart beating barely. He pressed his palms against Jean's chest and pushed into them, trying to get the oxygen to circulate through his body, only to have made a wasted effort. Marco bit his lip before turning back to the nurse. "Surgery," He mumbled. "We can do surgery. Try and figure it out from that." He said desperately.

  
A different doctor stepped into the conversation. "Surgery's way out of the question. We're not pulling out the knives until we know for sure what's wrong. If it turns out to be something like internal bleeding then-"

  
"-Well God Dammit! Figure Out What the Fuck's Wrong!" Marco yelled at them, tears choking him off. "He's dying here and no one's making an attempt at saving him!"

  
The doctor was quiet for a moment. "...If...We could filter his blood. There may be drugs left in his system if he happened to take any lately, but it's a long procedure, if his lungs happen to give out on him during the process, then there's nothing else we'd be able to do, not to mention it'll take some time to hook it up to him." Marco stared at him, and then nodded.

  
"Okay, Yeah, we'll have to..." The doctor nodded and took the nurse with him to grab the machine. Marco stared at the open doorway, afraid that they'd be too slow. He felt a hand tighten around his own. His head snapped back to find Jean squeezing onto him, sobbing.

  
"M-Marco...I-...I love you so much..." He barely managed to say. Marco locked eyes with Jean, shaking his head. "I-I'm so sorry..." He cried, wincing at the large lump that blocked his lungs. "It...Hurts so much..."

  
Marco ran his thumb along Jean's cheek. He couldn't find anything to say to him. "I-it'll be okay, I'll fix it." He promised. Jean's eyes filled with painful tears.

  
"I don't want to die..." He squeezed tighter onto Marco. "I want...to stay here with you...Marco, I don't want to die...I'm scared.."

  
Marco's eyes flooded with tears. "D-Don't talk like that, you're gonna get through this." He smiled a bit."I'll fix it, I swear. I did it before, didn't I?"

  
Jean stared upwards at the ceiling his eyes going black. "I'm scared..." He breathed.

  
Marco wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Don't be scared. I'm here for you, Jean. You're not going to die on me."

  
Jean felt his heart beginning to fail on him. "I don't want to die..." He repeated. The heart monitor began beeping slower and slower.

  
"You're not dying...You can't die..." Marco cried, trying to convince himself, along with Jean. "We still haven't gone to the movies..." Jean's grip began to loosen around his hand. Marco's lip trembled, he already knew what was coming."We didn't get to see that magician yet either..." He mumbled, squeezing the oxygen mask once again.

  
Jean felt the oxygen burst into his lungs, but the feeling quickly disappeared. His eyes stared up at Marco, the light above him seeming to grow brighter and brighter, flooding his vision from the person he wanted to see the most. This was his fault. Marco had told him, told him one more time and he was done. But he didn't listen...He ignored it like everything else. He had to take that last puff, didn't he? Had to light that last blunt. The lump in his chest was just a way to make him suffer for all of the pain he had put everyone else through. For all of the tormenting he had put on Marco. Not only did he have to deal with someone else's drug addiction, but he also had his own consciousness weighing down on him, along with the disappointment of everyone around him. And Jean didn't care about it. He had been so selfish towards Marco...Putting all of his problems on him when Jean didn't want to deal with them. Not just Marco either, his mom as well. He held a grudge against his mother instead of coming to an understanding like he should have. He couldn't ever remember telling her he loved her, or that he was sorry, or even so much as thank you. Jean cried harder, the lump holding onto the last string of life left inside of him, ready to snap it at any given moment.

  
Then, as if a plastic bag had been removed from around his lungs, the pain had just vanished. The light blinded his vision, sinking his eyes in pure white. His ears rang as the noise around him died down. He could no longer hear the doctors scurrying around the room, or the yells from them either. The only noise he could hear was his own breathing. Breathing, he was breathing again. Even though the noise seemed to tell him what he drew in was air, his body felt empty, weightless, the numb feeling that had tortured him for too long had been replaced by an odd warmth. It took a minute for Jean to realize that he was no longer strapped down, that lump that had held grasp to his chest was gone. The bright light seemed to hold a vast emptiness to it, an endless space. After a moment, he saw a hand. It reached out for him, wanting him to take it. Jean stared at it a moment then he reached up to it, feeling it grab tightly onto his.'Marco...' He thought to himself. It had to be him. Only Marco could manage to take away all the pain, to take all of it away so quickly, just like he had done before. He smiled, feeling his eyes fill with a blackness from the contact. It wasn't a dark blackness, but a calm one...A peaceful blackness. Jean felt his eyes rest. Sleeping, that's what he was doing, he was just sleeping. He'd wake up later, and Marco would be right by his side, to tell him everything was okay. To tell him he had pulled through, barely managed to, but he had pulled through, just like all the other times. Then they'd go home together, they'd crawl into bed together, and make love like they had all the time in the past, they'd wake up the next morning and stay in bed all day, or go see a movie, or just walk around in a park somewhere. Then they'd turn around and just go back home and crawl back into bed together, just like they had always done. Jean let the last tear roll down his cheek before his consciousness escaped him.


	6. Chapter 6

The room rang with a beep, the heart monitor failing to detect any beats "No, no, no, no." Marco mumbled. He quickly began pumping the oxygen into Jean's lungs, looking to the heart monitor to see if it was getting to him. The doctor and the nurse stepped in with the machine pulling it towards Jean's body. They stopped once they noticed Marco trying to bring Jean back through defibrillation. Marco pressed the metal into Jean's chest, watching as his body moved upward with the electricity. He turned his head to the heart monitor, it's endless beep ringing in his ears. He tried again, but had gotten the same result. After a third time, Marco collapsed onto the bed not allowing his mind to accept what had happened. The doctors all began to move out of the room, going to record the failed patient, or to help return the machine back into it's original room. Marco strained his ears listening for a heart beat. His heart skipped when he heard the faint thumping, but it was easily crushed as he realized he had been listening to his own beating heart. He felt Jean's skin grow cold in his grasp.

  
Marco closed his eyes, tears flowing down his cheeks. "I didn't get to show you my nephew..." He cried, Jean's hand limp in Marco's grasp. "I didn't get to say I love you..." His head dropped onto Jean's chest, his tears falling uncontrollably. "Oh, Jean..." He cried. "Jean...I love you. I love you so much...I'm sorry I ever yelled at you, I'm sorry for pushing you away before," His mom had stepped into the room, her shock silenced by the painful picture before her. "Jean, I'm so sorry..." Marco whined, not wanting to believe this was actually happening. Not wanting to believe he had just lost his only love..."Jean..."

* * *

 

  
Marco sat mindlessly at his desk. His eyes were focused on the wood, but it wasn't what he was looking at. He was looking at Jean, a happy, smiling Jean. A tear rolled down Marco's cheek, unnoticed by him. It had been a month since Jean's death, the pain as fresh as it was the day he died. They performed an autopsy on his body to find out what had happened and discovered that a blood clot from near his stomach had traveled to his lungs and had gotten stuck in a major vein, blocking oxygen from traveling to his heart. His death had been announced at 10:29 a.m. on October 23rd. Marco was taken off of work until he was able to pull himself back together, not being able to return until everything was taken care of.

  
His family had found out about his relationship with Jean and, to his surprise, Merrick and Marcie were okay with it. His uncle was completely sickened by it and how his siblings approved of it and left the town, and hasn't been heard of yet. The death had managed to bring Marco slightly closer to his family, but being closer hadn't affected him even a little. His heart had been crushed and there was no way to cure it. He promised Jean he would bring him back, promised to fix everything, promised to make it all better, but the words slipped right through the meaning. He hadn't been able to make it all better, he hadn't been able to fix everything, he hadn't been able to bring Jean back. He let Jean's life slide right through his fingers. If he had known it was a blood clot, if he knew that, he would've been able to keep his promise.

  
Marco's jaw tightened, thinking about Jean's dying words. 'I don't want to die..' The words that had brought them together in the first place. The words he spoke when Marco saw him as nothing but a patient. The painful words that had separated them just as easily. Marco's eyes wandered over his desk, landing on the screen of his phone. He clicked a button that turned the screen on and saw that he had an unheard voice mail. He wasn't going to listen to it, but his finger's glided over the buttons like second nature. He put the phone on speaker and set it down. "You Have One Unheard Message;

  
" _M- Marco, Please pick up, please. I - I can't breathe, My... chest, there's something inside my chest... Marco please, I don't know what to do, I t ...won't go away, I ...can't breathe, Please pick up, I'm scared._ " Marco stared down at his phone, his eyes flooding over with recognition of the voice coming from the other end.

  
"Jean..." He mumbled. Marco watched the screen of the phone as the time of the message beeped on and off at 08:23 a.m. Marco's throat tightened. Jean had suffered through that for over two hours. Why hadn't Marco picked up the phone when he was with Marcie? If he answered the call, Jean could maybe still be breathing. If Marco had just answered the damn phone, Jean could've still been alive. Marco cried silently to himself, trying to pretend that Jean was still with him, and that he was just in his room right now, watching a movie, or playing some game. Marco began sobbing, wrapping his arms around himself. He'd no longer have someone to go to when he was confused. He'd no longer have someone to talk to and take care of. He'd no longer have someone he could hold in his arms, or someone to kiss, or someone to confide in, or someone to make love with. It was all over. Jean had passed on, while Marco was left alone to cry after him.

  
Marco's shoulders began shaking as he cried harder for Jean. His heart hurt so much. Jean was on his mind all the time, and all the time Marco was hurting, crying. He wanted Jean back so much. He wanted to hold Jean in his arms so badly, and rest his head against his chest so he could hear Jean's beating heart. Marco closed his eyes, knowing he'd never be able to again.

  
There was a light tapping on his door. Marco wiped his eyes. "C-come in." He answered through choked tears. The door creaked open and Marcie stepped in. Her face was soft and sad, her eyes showing the pain she felt watching her brother falling apart. Marco stared forward at the desk, wanting so badly for things to go back to before.

  
Marcie opened her mouth, having a hard time trying to get out what she was trying to say. "The...Funeral's starting soon." She barely mumbled. Marco didn't seem to have heard her. His face was so full of pain and sorrow. Marcie bit her lip, hating to see him like this. "You know he wouldn't want to see you like this." She said. Marco shook his head slightly and then smiled, a smile that was too sad to even be considered a smile.

  
"I wonder what he would want to see me in..." He mumbled, envisioning Jean before him, telling him what to wear. "He always said I could pull off grey..." Marcie stepped further into the room, closing the door and then walking closer to Marco. She put her hand on his shoulder and found herself almost on the verge of tears. Marcie's touch seemed to make the pain in Marco's heart worse. He turned around and looked up at her, his brown eyes full of regret and pain. Marcie smiled sadly and pulled Marco up, trying to encourage him to get dressed. He felt her arms wrap around his body, his eyes heavy with tears. He cried loudly, burying his head into her shoulder. "It's not fair, Marcie. It's not fair..." Marcie ran her hand up and down Marco's back for comfort.

  
"I know it's not..." She pulled back slightly and lifted Marco's face up. "Jean wouldn't want to see you crying over him like this, just like you wouldn't want to see him cry so much for you. I know it's hard, Marco, believe me. I wish there was something I could do to make that pain go away, but there isn't. It's going to be there the longer you hold on to it." She let out a sigh. "I'm not telling you to forget about Jean...just," She wiped away the tears that were falling down Marco's face with her thumb and then let go of his chin, resting her hands on his shoulders. "Live for him. Live for the things that he didn't get a chance to see. Take both of you two there, don't linger behind."

  
Marco stared down at the floor, thinking about her advice. "...Live for Jean..." He mumbled. "...I..." He cut off, shutting his eyes, trying to keep the tears from flowing over again. He wanted to try and believe that he could, believe that he could take both of them and move on. He didn't want to move on, but he knew he had to. Marcie was right about that, he couldn't allow himself to linger when he had more to live for. Marco swallowed a lump in his throat, without Jean, it didn't seem like he had anything else to live for.

  
Marcie watched him a moment longer and then exhaled. "Merrick's waiting out in the car. Just come down whenever you're ready." She looked at Marco and then smiled. "Marco, it wasn't your fault..." She said before she turned and left the room.

  
Marco stared blankly at the closed door, Marcie's words seeming to drift around in his head. He sat there for some time before finding it in himself to stand up and move towards the closet. He pulled open the door, and stared blankly at the black suit he had only wore once in his life time, which had been at his father's funeral a few years ago. Marco ran his hand along the texture, wondering if it may have gotten smaller on him. He pulled it out and undressed. His heart felt heavy and his mind a mess. The cloth slid easily onto his body, the suit once slightly too big for him, was now a perfect fit. He put his black jacket on, buttoning it slowly. After he had fully dressed he stood in front of the mirror, staring at his torn apart reflection. He closed his eyes, picturing Jean standing behind him, with his hands on his shoulders admiring the way the suit fit him. He'd kiss Marco along his neck, while running his hands along his stomach, feeling the smooth skin beneath the creases. He'd tell Marco that he looked beyond amazing and then spin Marco around into his arms and kiss him, kiss him with so much passion and love. He'd hold the kiss longer than it was meant to last, and then kiss him again after it ended. Marco would push him back slightly and mockingly tell him he had to leave, while Jean would continue to test his limits.

  
Marco felt the warm liquid run down his cheeks, his eyes burning from all of the tears he had cried in the past week. He opened his eyes and took in a deep breath. Marco stared forward at his reflection, still picturing Jean behind him. He smiled to himself and grabbed his phone. He looked down to see that he was still on his voice mail. He saw the one message he had and ran his thumb over the screen before snapping the phone shut. Marco stared painfully at the phone. "I'll see you in a few..." He mumbled, turning towards the door and pulling it open, then climbing down the stairs.

  
He stood in front of the main door and took in a deep breath before reaching his hand out, turning the door knob. It'd be the first time Marco had stepped outside since Jean's death. Marco eased his way through the door way and began walking towards Merrick's car. To his surprise, it was pouring rain. He stopped in his tracks and looked up into the sky, the rain pelting down against his skin. A small smile spread across his face. "Live for both of us..." He said aloud to himself. "Will that make up for the movies?" As if Jean had been watching him, his answer came to Marco when his phone went off, playing the ringtone for Anberlin. He pulled out his phone and found a reminder notice. It had been for Jean's seventh month without the drugs. Marco smiled and nodded his head, not being able to control the tears that ran down his cheeks. "...Always love you." He said with the song, standing a moment longer in the rain before Merrick honked his horn.

  
Marco turned to the car and saw his siblings staring at him and waiting. He looked back up into the rain, staring at the grey clouds that sent them towards him. "I know you're up there Jean, wait for me." He mumbled before turning towards the car and forcing his body to move forward.

  
Marco pulled himself into the car and shut the door, staring down at the floor, before pulling his seat belt on. Merrick looked at him from the rear view mirror, then started the car. Marcie sat in the passengers seat, looking out the window, her aura still full of worry. Next to Marco sat his small little nephew, sound asleep in his booster seat. Marco sighed, turning his head and looking out the window himself as Merrick pulled away from the house and began driving towards their destination that was an hour away.

  
Marco's eyes watched blankly as the houses and cars flashed past them. Once everything began to slow down, he turned to the front of the car and saw that they had been stopped by an accident. An ambulance was pulled off to the side, while two bodies were being pulled out of one of the cars, meanwhile, the other medics worked on the person in the second car. Merrick sighed, staring at the bodies that you could tell weren't going to make it.

  
A cop then stepped out and began re-directing the traffic. Marcie looked back at Marco from the mirror, worried what the accident might have reminded Marco of. Marco's face was blank and sad. His eyes were red and puffy from crying so much lately, but no tears were flooding them. He turned away from the graphic scene and stared down at his hands.

  
The dead bodies had immediately reminded him of his loss. Marco bit his cheek, remembering his promise to Jean. He'd live for him, not cry for him. Today would be the last day he cried for Jean without doing something about it. He wasn't going to let Jean's death kill him as well. It'd just be a constant reminder of what he lost.

  
Merrick stared out the window, looking at the scene to see that the only man that had survived was now being arrested for possession of illegal drugs as well as drinking under the influence. Merrick sighed. "You know, it makes it hard to believe that there's a God when the bad guys always win..."

  
Marcie looked over at him and then down at the ground. "...Yeah..." She mumbled, fidgeting with her bracelet. Marco stared at Merrick from the back seat, surprised he had said that. His mouth was opened slightly as if he was going to say something, but no words came out. He turned his attention back out the window and looked back up into the clouds to find the sun trying to force its way through. The rain pelted down still, but not as fiercely as before.

  
Marco stared out at the passing cars and began thinking about the people they had just passed. He wondered if the people that were killed were going to be missed. And if they were, were the people that will miss them be as hurt as Marco had been by Jean's death? Then he thought back to the drunk man that had been arrested, wondering if anyone would be thankful for him surviving.

  
Marco sighed, realizing just how easily death could claim someone. Something as easy as a heart attack, to something like a car crash, death was everywhere you turned your head. The only thing that kept it so unnoticed were the amount of people that hadn't run into it yet. Marco smiled to himself. Whether he liked it or not, Jean had met death, and Marco would soon as well. It could be in years, or seconds, but when it happened, Marco knew he'd be prepared for it, and he knew that he would accept it willingly, no matter where it was that death would take him afterwords. He'd be ready for it, ready to be reunited with Jean and spend eternity with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plot twist; Jean's the one that dies this time.   
> That wasn't even funny, I'm sorry. Thank you for reading this and I'm sorry if I made any of you sad. There was just too much Marco death out there, had to do something else for a change c:


End file.
